


i once read about us in a fairytale (we fell in love)

by Nordyr



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, You're Not You When You're Hungry, i swear this isn't sponsored by snickers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 03:45:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17697032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nordyr/pseuds/Nordyr
Summary: When the young employee keeps quiet, clearly not sure what to do, Clarke sighs.“I’m trying to study,” she explains urgently, “and you just keep walking by with a bunch of books, going ‘look at me, I’m both smartandpretty’ and I can’t focus like that, so just… go do your job somewhere else, please.”orWith all the distractions around, Clarke doesn't expect Lexa to be a welcome one.





	i once read about us in a fairytale (we fell in love)

Clarke drops her head in her hands. She’s read this same paragraph from her schoolbook about five times but it’s not entering the part of her brain where everything she needs to remember for the upcoming test is crammed up.

She sighs in frustration and buries her fingers in her hair. Everything is so very _wrong_ today – she hasn’t had coffee in too many hours, somehow she’s missing half the notes she took in class and to top it off, the study area of the library had been packed with loud, annoying teenagers who obviously didn’t understand why it’s called a quiet zone.

So Clarke had carried her books up the stairs to the other side of the public library and had plopped down at a table in the far corner of the room. Though there are less people here, it doesn’t seem to have made a difference.

People are loud.

A man looking through the books on a nearby shelf keeps sniffing his nose. Somewhere off in the distance a kid is yelling for his mom and every few minutes an employee scans their card with a _beep_ at the nearby door to get access to the staff area.

She swears to God, if she hears that _beep_ one more time, she’s going to break the damn card reader.

Clarke knows she’s stressed out. She knows people aren’t any louder than usual, yet they’re too loud for her to focus right now.

She clicks her pen on the table, grits her teeth. Any other day she would’ve chosen to study in her own room, but the walls had literally been vibrating with music from the party next door. The lucky frat boys had finished their exams this morning and were already celebrating liberty.

Clarke sighs. If she can just get through this last test, she’ll be done too. She gives herself a mental pep talk (something including a promise of pizza later tonight), gives up on the impossible paragraph, and flips to the next page.

 

For a moment it’s quiet around her, and Clarke feels relieved. She forces herself to concentrate and starts reading with renewed patience, quietly excited at this sudden change and glad to have some focus back.

Unfortunately, it’s quickly broken again.

The sound of the card reader is followed by footsteps. An employee walks by, one book tucked under her arm. Her jeans are tight and her hair is in an overcomplicated braid, and overall it’s just very distracting.

Clarke follows the girl’s movement from underneath her eyebrows.

Obviously she can’t study like this.

The library employee starts moving books around, flips through the pages of a few of them and takes some notes on a small notepad, never turning to face Clarke. Which is probably a good thing, because she would be greeted by a glare.

The black T-shirt is tight around the employee’s figure. Clarke’s eyes narrow as she can see the faint outline of the girl’s surprisingly defined back muscles.

Great. That reminds her, she hasn’t gone to the gym for the past four weeks because the exams were coming up, and then Raven was on her period and Clarke didn’t want to go alone, and then Octavia borrowed her gym membership card and it was never seen again.

Clarke is not sure why this library girl is so determined to show off all the great things she has: a job where she’s obviously important enough to wear an official badge, insanely shaped legs, cutting jaw line–

Clarke’s brooding stare falters when she realizes the young employee has turned around. Their eyes meet briefly but Clarke blinks her gaze away as if suddenly realizing it’s not polite to glare at strangers, no matter how annoying their presence is.

She turns her eyes back to the textbook on the table, ignores the look the employee might possibly be giving her right now, and once more tries to focus on her schoolwork.

 

**Raven**  
hello  
it’s me  
i was wondering if after all this studying you’d like to eat

**Clarke**  
shh.  
I’m trying to study

**Raven**  
so is that a yes

**Clarke**  
yes  
preferably pizza  
or chocolate

**Raven**  
nutella pizza?

**Clarke**  
gross  
get a pepperoni as well

 

Clarke clicks her phone off, laying it face down on the table.

If she can just get through this last damn chapter and remember all the stuff she’s supposed to know by tomorrow, she’ll be done.

She stretches her legs, cracks her neck, takes a deep breath.

_“…The right dose differentiates a poison and a remedy. Small doses of inorganic arsenicals have been thought to have a tonic or alterative property, which led to their enthusiastic use for-”_

Another noise distracts her before she has the chance to digest the rest of that sentence and Clarke growls.

The nearby doors to the staff area open once more – with that goddamn _beep_ again – and the same young woman from before appears, this time pushing a trolley stacked with books into the library. The small wheels grind over the floor as she rolls the cart to a nearby shelf.

 

All right, that’s it.

 

“Okay, uhm, hello?”

The employee turns, question in her eyes.

“Could you go do that somewhere else, please?” Clarke’s smile is too forced to be friendly, but she pretends the effort is what matters.

“I… work here.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

When the young employee keeps quiet and stands uselessly in her spot, hands still on the cart and clearly not sure what to do, Clarke sighs.

“I’m trying to study,” she explains urgently, “and you just keep walking by with a bunch of books, going ‘look at me, I’m both smart _and_ pretty’ and I can’t focus like that, so just… go do your job somewhere else, please.”

The girl blinks.

In the silence that follows, Clarke’s own words mortifyingly dawn on her.

The employee’s eyes flash with amusement. “I’m smart and pretty?”

“You’re distracting,” Clarke corrects. When she realizes that doesn’t sound much better, she adds, “The wheels of that damn cart obviously need to be oiled because they’re literally echoing through the library. No one can concentrate like that.”

A small smirk appears on the employee’s lips and of course it’s disgustingly adorable and Clarke is not sure if she would rather punch or aggressively kiss the girl.

The employee averts her gaze to the books on the trolley.

“I was actually just taking these to the first floor,” she says, biting her lip, “so I’ll leave you to your silence.”

“Great. Thanks,” Clarke mumbles. She places her elbow on the table and rests her head in her hand, once more focusing on her schoolwork.

 

 

This time there’s nothing to distract her – no random people coughing, no kids yelling in the distance and no pretty employees walking by with carts with loud wheels.

In fact, it’s eerie quiet and it’s not long before Clarke slams her textbook closed.

So maybe the noise wasn’t the reason she was unable to study and maybe she was just taking out her frustration on everything around her and maybe that library girl didn’t deserve any of it.

Her stomach growls and Clarke realizes the afternoon has passed. The library has slowly emptied out as dinnertime approached. She picks up her phone and is about to text Raven she’s heading home, when a chocolate bar is placed next to her on the table.

Confused, Clarke looks up. The familiar employee is already walking off with a now empty trolley towards the staff area, not giving an explanation for the gift.

“Snickers?” Clarke questions.

“Yeah,” the girls throws back at her, “thought you might be hungry.”

Clarke narrows her eyes. “Is this your way of saying I’m being rude?”

The unmistakable _beep_ of the staff area card reader resounds and Clarke just sits there, a little perplexed.

The library girl doesn’t reappear and Clarke sighs, packs her bag and stuffs the chocolate bar in her pocket. Whatever she managed to cram into her head today will have to do for tomorrow’s test.

Pizza better be ready when she gets home.

 

//

 

Entering through the front door of their apartment, the smell of pepperoni greets her and Clarke kicks off her shoes on the doormat.

“Hello, roommate.” Raven peeks her head into the hallway.

Clarke replies with a grumble that only vaguely sounds like a greeting. She moves past Raven into the room, not really caring about anything other than dinner right now. She’s tired and hungry and everything else can wait.

“How was the library?” her friend asks.

“Terrible,” Clarke doesn’t hesitate to answer, knowing Raven won’t mind her blowing off some steam. “Everyone was loud and annoying and I couldn’t focus on studying.”

The pizza box is laid out on the dinner table and Clarke doesn’t hesitate to help herself.

“And then I got mad at this cute girl for no reason and she gave me a Snickers. She gave me a _Snickers,_ Raven.”

“You do seem like the kind of person who gets hangry,” someone says.

Clarke freezes, slice of pizza halfway to her mouth, and turns to the living room where the unfamiliar voice came from. A young woman sits on their couch, dark blonde hair and cheekbones that Clarke could only dream of.

“Hello,” Clarke greets her and considers whether to put her slice of pizza down to properly greet their guest or to just stuff half of it in her mouth already. She takes a large bite in compromise.

“Clarke, you know Anya,” Raven says casually, plopping down on the floor in front of the coffee table.

“Right,” Clarke says, pretending she knows the name of a girl she might’ve seen once or twice in the back of the lecture hall. “I think I’ve seen you in Chem class.”

Raven hums through a mouthful of pizza. “Yeah, you guys have that test tomorrow. I’m helping her study.”

Clarke roams her eyes over the coffee table. A half eaten Nutella pizza, two Playstation controllers, five presumably empty beer cans and a Harry Potter book do not seem like study material – but then again, Clarke didn’t fare so well with just a textbook, either.

“You guys done with this?” Clarke picks up the pepperoni pizza box with the complete intention of locking herself in her room with it, watching some 2004 rom-com with her headphones on to block out the music from next door that’s only gotten louder since this afternoon, and hopefully relax a little.

“Oh, yeah, but you have to share with Lexa.”

Just as Clarke is about to inquire who Lexa is ( _please, Raven, don’t let it be another raccoon you adopted_ ), the doorbell rings.

Raven stands up to get it and Clarke has a feeling this might be who she’s supposed to share the pizza with.

“She’s Anya’s roommate,” Raven informs her before opening the door. “Be nice.”

Clarke sighs. She’s not really in the mood to make new friends right now – in fact, she’s cranky and tired and not even in the mood to try and be _friendly._ Maybe if she’s quick enough, she can just take half the pizza and disappear into her room and avoid having to deal with anyone else tonight.

She’s not quick enough.

Anya’s apparent roommate enters their living room, politely thanking Raven for the invitation.

She has dark, curly hair and warm eyes and _oh god_ –

“Sorry I’m late, I had to” – her gaze falls on Clarke, pizza box in hand and frozen on the spot – “…work.”

Clarke can’t help the strangled noise that escapes her throat. Raven gives her an odd look and Clarke realizes the others heard it too, painting her cheeks only redder.

The girl from the library is standing in their living room.

She must have stopped at home to change out of her work clothes because she’s wearing a grey sweater now instead of the T-shirt she wore before, making her seem softer, cozier (like someone who enjoys snuggling under blankets on the couch and digs her hands in the pocket of her hoodie to keep warm), though the sharp features of her face remain perfectly controlled.

Clarke does a double take because _it can’t be the same girl_ but the young woman watches her curiously, a gleam of recognition in her eyes, and Clarke’s stomach flips in a way it only does when she’s nervous or–

“Clarke, this is Lexa,” Raven introduces them halfheartedly.

But Clarke has gone useless and the only sentence she can form is, “You’re not a raccoon.”

“I am not.”

“Okay,” Raven drawls, flitting her eyes between the two of them, “now that we’ve settled that…”

Raven pushes a soda into Lexa’s hand before leading their guest towards the couch. “You’ll have to forgive her. She’s had a long day.”

Clarke is still in the process of getting herself together and it doesn’t help when Lexa merely gives her a smile over her shoulder.

 

Her cheeks are burning and in all her fluster, Clarke drops the pizza box back on the table and escapes into the kitchen to get herself a much needed glass of water.

When she glances at the couch where the others are in conversation, she catches her roommate’s eyes.

Raven must notice the trouble on her friend’s face because she raises her brow as a question. _You cool?_

Clarke widens her eyes in urgency and mouths, _It’s the Snickers girl._

Raven frowns. _What?_

Clarke reaches for the chocolate bar still in her pocket and holds it up to emphasize her point, nodding towards their guest on the couch. _The Snickers girl. It’s Lexa._

By the time Raven’s confused frown slowly turns to understanding, Clarke realizes the conversation between Anya and Lexa has died out. They’re looking at her instead, chocolate bar still raised in her hand.

And okay, maybe mouthing words to each other from different sides of the room isn’t as discreet as Clarke thought it was.

She attempts a sheepish smile. If she hadn’t embarrassed herself enough yet today, this will surely do it.

The blush that was already on her cheeks creeps up to her ears. In need of an escape, Clarke clears her throat and nods to her bedroom door.

“I’ll be… in my room.”

 

 

Miraculously, she makes it to her room without once more making a fool of herself in some way (the world is against her today and Clarke takes this as a small victory, no matter how small). She has only just hidden herself behind the closed door when her stomach growls and Clarke realizes she forgot her share of the pizza.

She leans her head back against the door and shuts her eyes, clenches her jaw. It might be stupid, but she doesn’t want to go back for it.

All she’s done today is embarrass herself and Clarke thinks it’s best if she just waits this out.

She could’ve said hello to Lexa the moment she came in, could’ve introduced herself properly and jokingly apologized for earlier that afternoon – but instead Clarke had gaped at her and had panicked and now it’s too late to bring it up or pretend to have forgotten about it.

So the only real option she has here is to avoid the girl as much as possible.

Besides, Lexa did not seem nearly as affected by any of this, while her mere presence seemed to be enough to throw Clarke off balance.

She can’t boost Lexa’s ego by going back for the pizza and indirectly admitting that Lexa continues to distract her, even in her own home.

Her stomach growls again and Clarke sighs. She guesses the chocolate bar will have to do for now.

 

//

 

It’s been fifteen minutes and the Snickers wrapper lies discarded in the trashcan along with a dozen crumpled, torn off pages filled with sketches that never quite turned out the way Clarke wanted.

She’s changed into a pair of comfortable sweatpants and since she isn’t planning on leaving her room any time soon, freed herself of her bra’s constrictions as well. The restless feeling from earlier is still a dull itch under her skin, but Clarke feels calm enough to at least put things in perspective now.

She just had a bad day. It happens to everyone, right?

She’s sitting on her bed, scrolling through Netflix on her laptop when there’s a soft knock on her door.

Clarke frowns warily. Raven never knocks.

Another knock, then followed by a voice. “Clarke?”

Clarke’s heart jumps at the sound. She runs a hand through her hair – and okay, apparently Lexa makes her nervous now.

“Yeah?”

The door slowly opens and Lexa peers in. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Clarke replies, and she’s not what to expect but an unconscious smile tugs at her lips when the girl lingers half behind the door. “You can come in, you know.”

Lexa nods almost shyly and steps further into the room, revealing the pizza box she brought with her.

“I noticed you forgot the pizza, so…” Lexa bites her lip. “I thought you might be–”

“Hungry,” Clarke finishes with her. There’s something amusing about the familiar words this time and Clarke realizes there might be more than just mockery behind them.

“Thanks,” she mumbles as Lexa places the cardboard box on her desk for the time being.

Lexa’s eyes seem to catch on one of the unfinished sketches among the clutter on Clarke’s desk and the girl lingers, hand reaching out to hover above it – ghosting her fingertips over the outline as if close to touching before pulling away, but the moment is so small Clarke can barely say it was there.

Before the awkward silence can settle over them she gathers her courage.

“I’m sorry about earlier today,” Clarke says, her hands fidgeting. Better late than never. She should get the words out so this tension between them can finally resolve and her heart can stop doing the weird jumpy thing whenever Lexa looks at her. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you. I’ve just been… a little worked up with school and everything.”

She closes her laptop and gets up from her bed, moving to her desk to mindlessly fiddle with the corner of the pizza box.

“I noticed.” Lexa stays where she is and Clarke shifts in place under her gaze. (Maybe it were Lexa’s eyes, Clarke thinks, that threw her off balance every time she looked into them, because she has the sudden, suffocating feeling that it would be too easy to make a fool of herself again.)

“You shouldn’t forget to relax every once in a while. Even during exam weeks,” Lexa tells her matter-of-factly. “Makes the stress easier to handle.”

“Well, that was the plan,” Clarke scoffs to herself, “until you arrived.”

Lexa quirks an eyebrow in amusement. “Until I arrived?”

Clarke looks up at her, suddenly realizing that might’ve sounded like an insult – she’s not sure if considering someone annoyingly attractive counts as such.

“Yeah,” she mumbles and Lexa tilts her head, leans against the desk a little.

“You don’t think you can unwind with me around?”

Clarke chuckles wryly. “I don’t think I can unwind with anyone around. Hell, I was this close to throwing my laptop against the wall when it took too long loading a movie. And that’s an expensive laptop.”

She hears Lexa chuckle – low, warm. Clarke’s gaze absentmindedly moves down, looking for something new to fiddle with, something to keep her hands occupied while trying to make sense of the chaos in her head.

She finds Lexa’s fingers, splayed out near the edge of the desk, and her touch follows her eyes without much thought to trace along short fingernails. (Lexa doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away, but Clarke barely notices that little detail.)

“I don’t know why, but everything is just so frustrating today.”

Lexa smiles a little and that’s _exactly_ what Clarke means: it’s annoyingly cute and her lips look so soft and Clarke just wants to bite them–

There’s a compelling stir in Clarke’s body but she stops herself from decreasing the distance between them like she wants to, stops herself from touching the other girl any further who, in spite of the confidence she emits, looks so very innocent.

Clarke knows her cheeks must be flushed again.

“There are better ways to de-stress than watching movies, Clarke,” Lexa says, not taking the same caution and loosely intertwining the fingers that had been touching, softly playing and running fingertips up to Clarke’s wrist. She studies her face. “More effective ways, too.”

For a moment Clarke fears Lexa will feel the racing pulse under her skin, will realize the effect she’s having on her – but Lexa’s pupils are dilated, and Clarke knows they’re both equally exposed. This is a game, she thinks. A dangerous one, but they’re playing it so well.

She swallows. “You wouldn’t happen to know any of them?”

Lexa’s ears tint, her voice is a hoarse whisper. “I think you know them as well as I do.”

There’s a hunger in Clarke’s chest and Lexa is looking at her, breathlessly waiting for _something_ – so she takes the jump.

Clarke kisses her. It’s scary and exciting but definitely the right choice when Lexa only guides her closer by the nape of her neck.

It feels like confirmation that this is okay. Clarke lets out a sigh of relief against Lexa’s mouth and pulls them together like she had wanted to do since this afternoon – maybe a little too rough, too eager, but Lexa doesn’t hesitate to meet her. Her lips are warm and kissing her feels like a contradiction, both satisfying and not enough.

Lexa is soft but Clarke’s movements grow hungry soon and she nips at Lexa’s bottom lip, pulls it between her teeth to make the other girl gasp. Something about the moment feels surreal; like it could be snapped away the moment Clarke opens her eyes, so she keeps them shut and tries to ingrain every feeling, every breath into her memory.

She moves her fingers through Lexa’s dark, curly hair and decides she could spend whole afternoons doing that. It’s soft, almost soft enough to distract Clarke from the way Lexa’s hand is moving up her side over the fabric of her shirt, grazing the side of her boob. It must be a pleasant surprise to find her bra-less, because Lexa breathes a moan that makes Clarke’s knees feel weak.

But before her hand can stray further, Clarke is pushing her backwards until Lexa’s back hits the bedroom wall with a soft thump. Heat courses through Clarke’s body – the same that can be seen in the blush creeping up Lexa’s neck. She slips a hand underneath Lexa’s shirt to caress her stomach while she mouths at the girl’s jaw.

“You have been driving me crazy,” Clarke murmurs against her skin, “all day.”

Lexa grins breathlessly, tilts her head back at the feeling of Clarke’s lips. “I know.”

Clarke nips sharply in response. She slides her palm up the warm skin of Lexa’s stomach, eventually presses fingertips against the dents between Lexa’s ribs, wonders what it’s like to suck kisses there.

“Is this okay?” Clarke asks between heavy breaths, her fingers tracing up to the underside of Lexa’s breast.

“Yes,” the girl nods and her hands settle on the curve of Clarke’s ass, pulling them closer to kiss her again, tongue slipping past her lips.

It’s hot and not enough and Clarke can’t remember the last time something felt this _good_. She’s getting dizzy just from kissing Lexa and hearing both their shallow breathing when they stop to catch their breath.

Her hand is back on Lexa’s hip, almost a way for Clarke to anchor herself. She’s searching Lexa’s eyes, looking for signs of hesitation, trying to communicate in some unspoken way.

In the quiet moment, Lexa merely presses a single, soft kiss to her lips.

It’s too careful for the heat between their bodies, stirring something in Clarke’s chest that is warm, safe.

She blinks, takes a moment to place it.

Lexa pushes Clarke’s hand below the waistline of her pants and Clarke forgets about it.

She’s trembling with excitement, anticipation, frustration – she doesn’t know, maybe all of them – and feeling Lexa’s wetness through the fabric of her underwear sparks another burning in her.

She groans at the same time Lexa’s breath stutters.

“Fuck,” she breathes against Lexa’s parted mouth, watching the arousal in green eyes.

“Clarke.”

“Shh,” she murmurs, remembering they’re not alone in the apartment. “You have to be quiet.”

Lexa groans in the back of her throat, like she is unhappy about that fact, and a shudder of arousal courses through Clarke when she imagines what it must be like to have Lexa gasping out her pleasure and moaning Clarke’s name without restraint.

She pushes firmer against Lexa’s core and initiates a hungry kiss before sliding her fingers underneath the fabric of the girl’s underwear.

Lexa gasps, like the single touch could be enough to tip her over the edge if she allowed it to. It pleases Clarke to know she’s not the only eager one here; Lexa seems to need this as much as she does. She moves in circles while Lexa attempts to keep kissing her in between desperate breaths.

“Clarke,” Lexa gasps again, and it’s only been a minute or so but Clarke can feel a familiar coil in her own belly as well.

She skims her free hand upwards, to the curve of Lexa’s breast, and only brushes against it before gently tugging at a hardened nipple. Lexa’s back arches and Clarke glides two fingers further down Lexa’s core, easily slipping inside.

Lexa’s moan is drowned in the kiss they share. Hunger flares up in Clarke again as she hooks Lexa’s leg around her and gently fucks her against the bedroom wall. Something about it feels deeply satisfying, like Clarke hadn’t fully realized yet how much she has wanted to do this since the moment she saw the girl.

It’s not long before Lexa is shaking, pressing their bodies together and throwing her head back in release. Clarke skims kisses up her neck and jaw until Lexa meets her lips sloppily, satisfied. Her hair is mussed and her cheeks tinted and Clarke realizes she probably looks much the same.

They’re caught in a similar blissful haze, pupils blown and heavy breaths between them.

“Thank you,” Lexa pants. “That was really fucking good.”

Clarke laughs. This girl just thanked her for an orgasm. “Anytime.”

Lexa kisses her again, smiling, in response. And maybe it’s the afterglow that somehow spreads to both of them, but it’s soft and slow and Clarke falls into it. Pressed against each other, she can’t help but be swept away by the sudden, quiet intimacy and float along in the swell of her heart against her chest. When Lexa silently nudges the tip of her nose against Clarke’s and reseals their lips, it’s both careful and determined and Clarke doesn’t know if this sudden wave of emotions is hers or Lexa’s. She’s too wrapped up in the feeling of warm lips to care and can’t help but think how she wants this to _last_.

There’s a swipe of Lexa’s tongue against her bottom lip, a push at her hips, and just like that it fades to the background.

Lexa guides her backwards, pushing until the back of Clarke’s knees hit the bed and she’s forced to sit down. Fingers curl around the waistband of Clarke’s sweatpants and she helps Lexa take them off before she’s kissing her again, trying to pull her onto the bed as well.

Instead, Lexa places a hand on Clarke’s inner thigh to make room. She sinks to her knees, never breaking their kiss, and slides a warm hand underneath Clarke’s shirt, moving up her stomach. Clarke groans when a thumb brushes over her nipple. She pushes herself further against Lexa’s hand, eager to feel more of her.

If Lexa gets distracted by feeling her boobs for a while, Clarke doesn’t complain. She grins into their kiss and flicks her tongue against the roof of Lexa’s mouth. Fingers skim down to the fabric of Clarke’s underwear and she grows desperate, kissing Lexa harder, more demanding.

Her underwear is tugged off and Clarke feels her skin heat up. She expects fingers to touch her, but Lexa breaks their kiss, runs her hands over Clarke’s knees and moves her lips to the insides of her thighs instead.

Clarke feels her heart rate speed up. She didn’t think she could possibly get any more worked up, but Lexa is kissing up her legs and pulling her towards the edge of the bed and Clarke just watches breathlessly.

A shuddering moan escapes her once Lexa reaches her destination. Clarke is sensitive enough to feel every precise movement. Lexa’s mouth does wicked things to her, soft and wet and giving pressure exactly where she needs it. Clarke buries her hands in curly hair, keeping the girl close, but Lexa barely needs the encouragement.

It takes a few repetitive movements; her hips jerk and Clarke is coming way too fast, shaking and trembling against parted lips and slowing tongue.

She swallows thickly, trying to regain her breath and blinking at the ceiling.

Holy fuck.

A grin breaks out on her face.

“Okay–” Clarke’s eyes are full of excitement when she finds Lexa’s. “We are definitely doing that again.”

 

//

 

“I could help you study, if you want.”

Clarke brushes a loose strand of hair from Lexa’s face, fingers lingering to trace over her ear.

“You’re taking chemistry as well?”

She’s not sure how they ended up like this, cuddled together in bed with the sheets tangled at their waists, but it feels easy.

“No.” Lexa stretches lazily and rolls onto her side, soft eyes roaming over Clarke’s face. “But I’ve read a few of the books you’re learning from.”

“You read them?”

Lexa hums. “They’re my roommate’s.’

“You read schoolbooks of classes you don’t take.” Clarke grins, narrows her eyes as if it will help her figure this girl out. “Aren’t you just full of surprises.”

Lexa quirks an eyebrow. “Well, I am known to be smart _and_ pretty.”

The comment makes Clarke laugh and she entwines their fingers to pull the other girl closer.

 

//

 

Clarke cracks open her bedroom door.

It’s quiet. Quiet enough to put her on guard, expecting a surprise attack of her roommate at any moment.

Lexa follows closely behind her, face set in a stoic mask as if it will hide the faint blush that’s still on her cheeks. But there’s no sign of either Raven or Anya as they make their way to the living room.

“That’s strange.” Lexa frowns, glancing between the couch and the empty beer cans on the coffee table. “I left them right here.”

Amongst all the clutter, Clarke notices the familiar sight of a bright yellow sticky note stuck to the edge of the table – Raven’s favorite way of leaving messages. ( _“All professional people work with post-it notes, Clarke,”_ and, _“Think of it as a personal, heartfelt letter in miniature.”_ )

The familiar, sloppy handwriting seems to have been scribbled down in a hurry.

 

_we left when lexa didn’t come out of your room after 10 min_

_im staying over at the blake’s, you gals have fun now_

 

It makes Clarke smile in amusement, impressed by how easily Raven caught onto these kind of things. She feels Lexa peer over her shoulder to read the message as well.

“You know what that means?” Clarke turns to the girl behind her with mischievous eyes.

Lexa hums. Her arms circle around Clarke’s middle without much thought, keeping them close together.

“We don’t have to be quiet anymore,” Clarke says, smiling as she leans in for a kiss, but before their lips can fully connect they’re interrupted by the sound of Clarke’s stomach growling.

So with all the distractions tonight she might have forgotten to have a proper dinner.

“How about,” Lexa chuckles, resting their foreheads together, “we finish that pizza first?”

 

//

 

Pizza comes with a movie, the of two of them on the couch and barely any space between them. If there was a point where Lexa should’ve left and allowed them to go their separate ways again, it must have already passed them by. Instead, Lexa is still here – quiet, soft, somehow still mysterious after Clarke had seen every part of her – and there’s a longing to keep her, to know if this is more than something physical between them.

But they’ve shared a bed literally a few hours after meeting each other, and whatever hangs between them feels more fragile than Clarke is used to.

She doesn’t want to dismiss this as a one-time thing, a fling without meaning, because it already feels like it’s more than that. It’s backwards and confusing but it’s _there_ : in the way Lexa dozed off in her bed and allowed Clarke to trace patterns on her back even after she woke, in the way they shared soft and unhurried kisses that didn’t need to turn heated, in the way Lexa is still on her couch, stealing short glances at her.

But Clarke knows people sleep around. It’s too common for her liking, but generally accepted among their fellow college students. So with the way their afternoon went, it wouldn’t be a surprise if Lexa was not expecting this to lead anywhere, and Clarke can’t exactly blame her.

She supposes it’s safest to assume that Lexa _is_ expecting this to be a no-strings-attached sort of thing. At least that way Clarke can’t accidentally make the girl uncomfortable and ruin the rest of their nice afternoon. That would be a waste, because Lexa seems too interesting to lose as a potential friend as well.

So Clarke sits quietly and watches the movie and when Lexa leaves later that evening with a quiet goodbye and a soft kiss on her cheek, Clarke tries to have tomorrow’s test be the only thing on her mind.

 

//

 

“On a scale of one to horrendous,” Raven claims the moment she walks into their apartment and drops her backpack with a dramatic thump on the floor, “my day was probably a seven.”

She doesn’t hesitate to plop down next to her roommate on the couch who is reading a faded copy of some artsy-looking book.

“How was yours?”

Clarke hums. “It was alright.”

“Yeah?” Raven sinks a little further into the cushions. “How’d the test go?”

“It went… well, actually.”

The words sound almost surprising to Clarke herself, but it’s the truth. Aside from the way her thoughts had the tendency to stray to soft lips and green-blue eyes, her mind had been clear today. Clear enough to focus on the exam for almost two hours straight, and Clarke is fairly sure she did well enough to pass.

“Huh.” Raven smiles. “Maybe you should ask Lexa to help you study more often, then.”

The sound of Lexa’s name has Clarke fiddling with the corner of the page she was on. The book was supposed to keep her mind occupied and away from any Lexa-related thoughts, but it’s of no use now.

Raven had stayed the night at the Blake siblings and had gone to school this morning like usual, only now wearing a T-shirt that probably belonged to Octavia, so they hadn’t talked since the day before.

Clarke tries to ignore the blush she feels creeping up her neck. She laughs a little. “Yeah. I don’t know.”

Raven gives her a curious look.

“Like, maybe it was supposed to be a one-time thing, you know? I mean, we literally jumped each other’s bones only a few hours after we met and that is _not_ how healthy relationships start so obviously this could’ve been nothing more than physical attraction and we probably shouldn’t risk this leading to anything serious–”

“Hold up... What?” Raven looks at her with an intensity that has Clarke falling quiet.

“What?” She echoes with the sudden, dreadful feeling she said something wrong.

“You slept with her?”

“Well… yes.”

Raven straightens up. “You slept with _Lexa Woods?_ ”

Clarke sits there uselessly, not sure how to respond to this apparently huge revelation. “Wh– You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know!” Raven exclaims.

“But you said you were staying at Octavia’s–”

“Yeah, because you were _cranky_ and I didn’t want to have to deal with you for the rest of the night.”

Clarke frowns but it’s hard to take offense when Raven is looking at her full of wonder.

“Lexa hasn’t been with anyone for _years_ ; there was some fucked up shit with her ex-girlfriend and after that she wouldn’t even look at another girl that way,” Raven explains. “We thought you two just hit it off and she was helping you study or something.”

Clarke pulls at her sleeves. “Well… she kind of was.”

Raven shakes her head in disbelief, but there’s a smile on her face.

“Holy shit,” the girl mumbles, running a hand through her hair. “I guess that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

Raven is already taking out her phone. She scrolls a bit before handing it over. “Anya texted me this morning.”

 

**Anya**  
Lexa is acting weird.  
What did you roommate do

**Raven**  
what do you mean lexa’s being weird

**Anya**  
She’s… happy and sad at the same time.  
It’s unnerving.  
I haven’t seen her with this many emotions since her favorite candle store burned down.

 

“She’s having emotions and stuff, Clarke,” Raven emphasizes.

The world flips.

“Oh.”

And Clarke feels it rushing through her veins, a hopeful feeling that is trying to push through the stoicism she had copied from Lexa. There was no point in dwelling on what-ifs, so Clarke had tried her hardest to be okay with the way they had left things and ignored the way her heart still skipped a beat when she thought about the day before.

But if what Raven says is true and yesterday did mean something to Lexa as well, maybe Clarke doesn’t have to try so hard to forget about her. Maybe she hadn’t been imagining that pull between them. Maybe Lexa had been scared as well and was waiting for _Clarke_ to define it.

Her breathing quickens, her eyes copying the excitement in Raven’s.

“Then do you think I should–”

“Yes!”

Clarke stands up from the couch, suddenly restless. “And you’re _sure_ that–”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she nods to herself. “Okay.”

And before Clarke can completely comprehend what she’s doing, she’s moving to the hallway to put on her shoes and jacket.

“I’ll text you the address,” Raven calls out just before the front door closes.

 

//

 

“Nothing happened, Anya,” Lexa mumbles, her eyes glued to the TV screen. “Let it go.”

“I would, if you would stop sulking.”

“I’m not sulking.” She snuggles further into the collar of her hoodie and turns up the TV’s volume in a poor attempt to end the conversation.

(She is sulking.)

“Lexa,” her roommate argues, “you’re watching teleshopping.”

To be fair she’s not exactly _watching_ it; the TV host is giving some overexcited sales talk about a new push up bra, but Lexa hasn’t heard a word of it. It’s mere background noise as her mind is replaying every detail of yesterday afternoon and questioning her own sanity.

Anya noticed – of course she noticed, she knows Lexa too well – but what is there to say? That she can’t stop thinking about a girl with ocean blue eyes who she met only a day ago, that the warmth pooling in her stomach had become so unfamiliar it almost scares her, that she was stupid for giving into it because it could not have meant anything?

_It didn’t mean anything, Anya,_ Lexa wants to say, wants to explain the mess she has worked herself into. She and Clarke spent an afternoon together and left no phone numbers, no promises.

She doesn’t know what any of that means. All she knows is that Clarke drew her in and it felt like something inevitable, something more than a hookup with a stranger, something that still makes a blush creep over her collarbone.

Lexa runs a hand through her hair. The doorbell rings and she stands up to get it, ignoring the way Anya is still looking at her with skepticism.

 

She just has a crush on Clarke. It’s probably that simple. The most obvious solution would be to push it away to the back of her mind and not allow herself to think about it until it can’t affect her anymore.

Lexa is good at those sort of things. She’s good at ignoring her feelings until she’s convinced herself they don’t exist anymore, so she’s not entirely sure why Clarke Griffin feels like a much more complicated situation–

 

But really, it all gets a lot simpler when she opens the door.

 

 

“Clarke?”

Windblown strands of blonde hair frame her face and Lexa’s heart skips a beat.

“Hi,” the girl grins breathlessly, a sparkle in her blue eyes. “Will you go out with me?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hey you
> 
> yeah you
> 
> thanks for reading


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